I Give Up, Who Am I?
by Scarlett Princess
Summary: A certain beloved daughter of a certain evil madman comes to Hogwarts for the first time in her sixth year. Madcap humor ensues. Draco/OC
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the potter-verse. I make no money from this story, etc, etc.

Chapter One

Once upon a time, there was a young lady of considerable beauty who was born to evil parents. Being inherently beautiful, she was also inherently good and her parents despised her for it. She was a well-kept secret among those who followed her father, who was an abominably evil wizard. When her father was forced underground, her education was taken care of by her father's followers who grilled her mercilessly in the Dark Arts, hoping that some evil would perchance sink into her soul.

When this young lady was thirteen, her father re-emerged as the century's most evil madman and she became afraid for her life. She couldn't help that she was so good and kind and she was worried that her father would have her killed. She thought long and hard of ways that she could escape her father. She settled for escaping her father's notice by throwing herself into her studies, assuming correctly that if she was doing well in the Dark Arts, her father would find no reason to kill her—yet.

At the age of sixteen, she came up with a new plan. She would convince her father that she should be at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in order to continue her studies.

"You're so busy trying to kill that Harry Potter chap," she reasoned with him, "that perhaps it would be better if I went to boarding school."

"Yes," he nodded, stroking his chin and smirking. "I certainly don't need any nuisances underfoot at this point in my career."

He suddenly stood up and began pacing.

"You will go by a different last name—Smith, perhaps?"

"Smith?" she asked, bewildered.

"Yes, Smith. Anne Smith. It's too perfect."

He rubbed his hands together and laughed maniacally.

"I guess if you want me to," she said, reluctantly.

And that was how it was decided that Anne "Smith" would be attending Hogwarts her sixth and seventh years of school.

Anne was dropped off at the Hogwarts Express by her father. For security reasons, he wore a long trench coat, a fedora, and huge sunglasses. And nobody recognized him.

"Now you listen and you listen good," he began, gripping Anne's arm and leering into her face. "You _will_ continue the family legacy. You _will_ act as a daughter of mine should while you are away at school."

"How's that, father?" asked Anne, gritting her teeth in pain.

"None of that behavior that you've indulged in at home, that's for certain. There will be no frolicking with _bunnies_ and other... _fuzzy_ animals," he hissed, the words dripping with disgust. "No singing, no skipping, and no, absolutely no, falling in love."

"Yes, father," said Anne, sighing. She was so picked on.

"And no sighing!" her father ground out between his teeth. "You're only allowed to smirk, sneer, and snicker when in the presence of others. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, father," sneered Anne.

"And I would appreciate it if would develop _some_ proficiency at sarcasm while you're gone. Your blunt observations are rather tiring," he said, loosening his grip on Anne's arm.

"Yes, father," said Anne, smiling. Her father's face clouded over and he scowled at her. Quickly realizing her mistake, Anne smirked and said, "I meant, uh..." she paused and her brow crinkled in thought. "Obviously? Or something..." She trailed off lamely.

Her father rolled her eyes and roughly shoved her from him.

"Get going," he spat. "This little interlude has taken enough of my time."

Anne grinned, grabbed her trolley, and bounded to the train, her hair trailing behind her.

On the train, Anne found an empty compartment, but she decided not to sit in it. She decided to sit in a compartment with a two red heads, a black head, and a brunette. Barging in, she sat down in the seat and huffed.

"Finally! Decent human beings!" she said. "You have no idea how long I've waited to meet some of you!"

"Excuse me?" asked the brunette.

"You're not a vampire, are you?" asked the male red head.

"So, what are your names?" asked Anne ignoring them.

"I'm Ginny," volunteered the female red head, "and that git who just asked if you're a vampire is my brother, Ron, and that there's Hermione and Harry."

"It's nice to meet you all," grinned Anne from ear to ear. "I'm Anne!"

"Are you new?" asked Hermione. "I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"No, I'm Anne. And you've never seen me before because I've never been to this school. So, what do you guys do for fun around here?"

"Well, the sweet trolley'll be by in a bit," said Ron.

"No way! You guys eat sweets, too!" Anne exclaimed.

Hermione surreptitiously edged away and Harry snickered. Anne turned to stare at Harry in awe. Harry quieted and self-consciously flattened his bangs over his scar. Anne opened her mouth and Harry braced himself.

"You just snickered!" That was unexpected.

Harry mentally gave a sigh of relief. Anne immediately moved so that she was sitting next to him.

"I've been trying to learn that particular talent for ages!" she continued. "Can you teach me?"

"Oh, well, uh..." Harry eloquently stated.

He was interrupted by the compartment door opening. Luna Lovegood stepped through and sat down next to Ronald.

"A bit crowded in here, isn't it?" she murmured. "I suppose that's because of the extra Larpfunks that boarded the train when we went through the tunnel."

"Yes, Luna," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "If only the Larpfunks hadn't come aboard."

Anne turned to look at Hermione awed again.

"That was brilliant, Hermione!" she exclaimed. "You're like, the Mistress of Sarcasm!"

Hermione raised a puzzled eyebrow, wondering if she were being pranked. Anne gasped.

"And you can raise your eyebrow, too! Father is always berating me for lacking that particular skill."

Hermione, now sufficiently weirded out, decided that she needed to use the loo and quickly exited the compartment.

"And your name is?" asked Anne, turning to Luna.

"Usually I'm Luna Lovegood, but I'm not quite myself today," replied the blonde.

"I know what you mean," nodded Anne in sympathy.

The two girls quickly became engrossed in their own conversation for the rest of the train ride.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the potter-verse. I make no money from this story, etc, etc.

Chapter Two

Once the students arrived at the school and were in the Great Hall, Anne nervously waited to be sorted with the first years. Her father's approval, and possibly her very life, depended on her being sorted into the right house.

"Smith, Anne!"

Anne gingerly sat on the stool and slipped the hat over her head.

"Hmmm... nothing like your parents, are you?" began the hat.

Anne gulped.

"Plenty of bravery in you, to be living among those wretches that call themselves human beings. Gryffindor might be the place for you... but I can see that might cause complications later on. You're brainy, I can see that too. Have kept up with your studies. Ravenclaw is another possibility."

The hat paused, considering. "A poor candidate for Slytherin, you are. You're not sly or ambitious. I suppose that leaves Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. You do have freakishly annoying Hufflepuff tendencies."

Anne heaved a sigh of relief. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were definitely the lesser of four evils.

"Got a preference?" asked the hat.

"Uh, well—" began Anne.

"Too late! It's HUFFLEPUFF for you!" yelled the hat in glee, laughing maniacally.

"NOOOOOOOO!" yelled Anne. Hufflepuff may be the lesser of four evils in her opinion, but she knew her father wouldn't agree. That's why she was going to pick Ravenclaw.

"The sorting hat ruined my life!" wailed Anne.

The Hufflepuffs who had started clapping trailed off, shocked. The Slytherins were snickering (obviously) and the other two houses were also in various states of shock and bewilderment.

"Miss Smith!" exclaimed a shocked McGonagall. The regal matron grabbed Anne by her elbow and forced her to stand. "Your behavior is simply unacceptable!" she hissed. "Thank goodness you are not one of my own. Professor Sprout will know how to deal with you. In the meantime, go sit with your housemates!"

Anne moped with her head down all the way to the Hufflepuff table. She sat down and sighed morosely.

"I'm doomed," she moaned and her head fell to the heavy tabletop with a bang.

Some of the less good-natured Hufflepuffs scowled and moved to sit at the other end of the table.

"This is the worst day of my life!" continued Anne, talking into the tabletop.

"Oh, it can't be all that bad," said a voice near her left elbow.

"Luna!" exclaimed Anne, looking up. "What are you doing here?"  
"Sitting. And talking to you."

"But don't you have to sit at the Ravenclaw table?"

"Oh, it's not a requirement, technically speaking," said the blonde, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

"Really?!" asked an excited Anne. "That's the best news I've heard all day. So, I can sit with any other table I want to, right?"

"Oh, yes," said Luna. "I frequently sit with the Gryffindors. The spirit of Dunkerdoodle is most strong in that particular vicinity."

Anne stood abruptly and skipped over to the Slytherin table. Luna had calmly and collectedly followed and stood serenely next to her new friend.

"Hello," Anne chirped, sweetly. "My father was in Slytherin. Can I sit here?"

"No," sneered a platinum blonde, blue-eyed teenager.

"But I have to sit here!" whined Anne, her eyes filling with tears. "My father will kill me when he finds out that I'm in Hufflepuff."

"Fine," said the boy. "You can sit here. But you have to do something for us."

"What?" asked Anne with tears in her eyes.

"We'll figure that out later," smirked the lad, with malice glinting in his eyes.

"But Draccie," whined the girl at his left, "What about me?"

"Wrong conversation, Parkinson," said "Draccie". "And don't call me Draccie. It's Draco."

"So, what do you do for fun around here?" asked Anne.

"Well, we usually torture mudbloods like Granger, over there," said Draco, gesturing toward the Gryffindor table.

Anne gasped. "You just said a bad word!" she exclaimed.

"What? Mudblood? That's nothing around here. You should get used to it," replied Draco. "So who was your father? If he was in Slytherin, my father would know who he was."

"Oh, his name is Tom Riddle," said Anne.

Draco frowned. "I haven't heard of the Riddle family. And isn't your last name Smith? Why isn't it the same as your father?"

"Uh," began Anne. _Shoot_, she thought. _I should have practiced my lieing more often. _"Well see, my father is dreadfully famous and he didn't want people to know that he had a daughter because I might get kidnapped, so I always go by the last name Smith."

"If your father is so famous, how come I haven't heard of him?" asked another Slytherin nearby.

"Uh... Oh, right. I forgot. He's from a different dimension. A different time actually. He's from the future and he sent me to the past so that I could be unrecognized," said Anne.

"Time travel is impossible," said Draco sneering.

"No it isn't," piped up Luna. "Why, everyone knows that Dumbledore is really Merlin in disguise."

"Pass the potatoes?" Anne asked nervously trying to change the subject.

"I don't know," said the plump girl next to her, wrinkling her nose. "The potatoes are my favorite and you're kind of weird."  
"That's an understatement," said Draco. "Look," he said, leaning forward to make his point in a more intimidating manner, "I don't think you're cut out to be here. Anyone who hangs out with Loony Lovegood is soft in the head. And I haven't heard of your family at all, so you're probably just as low as the Weasley family if not worse, since it seems you have the same taste in friends."

"Luna," shouted Ginny from the Gryffindor table. She frantically waved at Luna, encouraging her to come to their table.

"I should go," said Luna. "It appears that Ginerva is suffering from an attack of the Ringdots."

Luna left and Anne stayed behind, looking at her plate miserably. Draco looked at her with an eyebrow raised. Finally he said, "Why haven't you left yet?"

"What?" said Anne, looking up. "Why would I leave?"

"Yes," sneered Pansy Parkinson, "Why haven't you left yet?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're timing is perfect as always, Pansy."

"Thank you, Draco," purred Pansy.

"I'm not going to waste anymore time on either of you," said Draco, standing up. "I'm going to the common room."

Anne looked down at her plate again, her eyebrows knitted in puzzlement. What was this feeling that was deep inside her that made her want to do bad, bad things? Was she possibly... angry? No, that couldn't be it. She had never been angry in her life. But then, she had never been blown off in her life, either. She was the daughter of Lord Voldemort, for heaven's sake. Anne suddenly banged her fist on the table. She was going to get what she wanted and darned if she didn't!

"Pass the potatoes!" she bellowed. "And while you're at it, send me the gravy!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the potter-verse. I make no money from this story, etc, etc.

Chapter Three

Daughter—

If it weren't for security issues, this would be a howler! Hufflepuff?! My wrath is only slightly abated by your supposed angry outburst, which one Miss Bulstrode told her mother, who told Mrs. Malfoy, who told her sister, Mrs. Lestrange, who told me! You better be on your worst behavior from now on or you will be getting potions ingredients in your stocking instead of sweets this coming Christmas! That is, if there is a Christmas this year!

Sincerely&etc,

Daddy

Anne sat at the Slytherin table while glumly picking at her morning eggs. Luna sighed contentedly beside her.

"I'm so glad that the trumpleberry fruits are finally in season. I'm going on the grounds this afternoon to harvest them while wearing my trumpleberry harvesting suit. I wish you could see it; it's so darling," said Luna.

"Why don't you just show me after class?" asked Anne.

"Oh, I'd love to, but you still wouldn't be able to see it. It's invisible," replied Luna.

"Merlin's beard. Don't tell me that Loony Lovegood is going to be prancing around the grounds naked?" spat Draco. "I'd sooner eat my cloak than be around to witness that."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Draco," intoned Luna. "Cloak eating is very habit forming, not to mention a costly addiction. It might even cost you your life!"

Draco glared at Luna. "Who gave you permission to say my name? I never said you could say my name!"

"Why, the little man on your shoulder gave me permission to say your name," smiled Luna.

"What?!" yelled Draco, hopping up from his seat and frantically brushing off both shoulders. "What little man?" he demanded. "There is no little man! There better not be a little man on my shoulders or you'll pay for this, Lovegood. I'll make sure my father hears about this!" Draco jumped off from the table and stomped away.

"It's funny," said Luna, "but he never seems to finish his meals. That must be why he looks so fit."

"I don't want to talk about Draco right now, Luna," said Anne morosely. "I have bigger problems."

"There, there," said Luna. "I was upset when I heard about Stubby Boardman, too."

"My father hates me!" wailed Anne, starting to sob. "You don't know what it's like, being the only daughter of a maniacal madman who wants to take over an island. And on top of that, my inherently good looks are failing. Look at my hair! It's all wilted!"

"Really?" said Pansy Parkinson. "My hair gets like that when I forget to take a shower."

"That's what my problem is!" exclaimed Anne. "I forgot to take a shower. All my problems are solved!"

"That's what you think," sneered Blaise Zabini.

"I'll go take a shower right away!" exclaimed an exultant Anne.

"Just a moment, Ms. Smith," said a voice behind her. "You'll need your class schedule."

Anne turned around and was face to face with a short, stout, gray-haired old lady who happened to be sneering at her. The usually amiable Professor Sprout was looking at Anne with the distaste she usually reserved for toxic mold. Anne beamed at her.

"Oh, are you Professor Sprout the Hufflepuff head?" asked Anne happily. "I'm so pleased to see that you're more grumpy than rumored. I'll be sure to write Daddy and tell him the happy news—with a sneer like that you're sure to be a good role model!"

The good professor drew herself up and intoned nastily, "Ten points from Hufflepuff for unnecessary sarcasm and a detention for Friday."

"Oh, but Professor," protested Anne, "I'm no where near proficient at sarcasm! Why, I couldn't be sarcastic if my life depended on it!"

"Twenty points and detention until the end of the week!" shouted the Professor, "And if I hear another word it will be one hundred points and detention for an entire month!"

"Yes ma'm!" smiled Anne as she took her class schedule. "Oh look!" she said. "Double potions with Professor Snape first thing Tuesday morning! I've heard marvelous things about him! Do you think he'll like me?"

"I doubt it," said Zabini.

"He doesn't like anyone!" said Pansy.

"That's only because he has a bad case of Rumple-itis," insisted Luna.

"What are you talking about, you flaming nut!" sneered Zabini.

"Why, that he was hit over the head by Rumplestiltskien when he was a baby, of course! It accounts not only for his bad temper, but also for his pure gold clothes, which he obviously disguises as plain black ones."

"_Obviously_."

"Oh dear," said Anne. "I've forgot that Hufflepuffs and Slytherins don't attend class together. I suppose I was fated to suffer! It's punishment for not being as evil as my parents."

"If your father is evil I'll eat my hand," said Zabini.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the potter-verse. I make no money from this story, etc, etc.

Chapter Four

Anne was having a difficult time paying attention in Herbology. Today seemed to be a good day for butterflies, at least in greenhouse two. Her eyes fairly sparkled at seeing such beauty and the butterflies, seeing that she was at least as beautiful as themselves, flocked to her (cheeky things!). She was soon covered, every inch, in butterflies and made quite a spectacle. Professor Sprout had a difficult time keeping the attention of the rest of the students after that and gave Anne detention for the remainder of the month for being a distraction. Let it be noted that rather than resenting the treatment she was receiving at the hands of her head of house, Anne crowed to her father about the special treatment she was getting.

Care of Magical Creatures was equally thrilling, for Anne at least, and Hagrid was glad to have such an enthusiastic admirer of his new Kryptank Fillies.

"They're beauties!" Anne had cooed. "Father would love them!"

It was misfortunate that Anne couldn't find Transfiguration and Charms equally fascinating. Life just wasn't as fun when there wasn't anything to frolic with and despite hearing about the grim nature of potions class, Anne was determined to enjoy it for her father's sake. In fact, she was quite looking forward to detesting it. She was sure that, in a weird way, her father would enjoy her being happily miserable.

At dinner that evening she couldn't contain her joy at all the wonderful classes she had attended.

"And I stayed after Magical Creatures and missed my study break so I could frolic on the grounds," she was saying when Draco finally swaggered in to dinner.

"I knew it," he announced upon hearing her speech, "you're one of _them_, those half-wits who revel in being second-class."

"Are you talking about how I haven't had a shower yet?" asked Anne. "I apologize for the smell, but I haven't had time you know. And I'm starting to think that showers aren't necessary because I'm still inherently beautiful without them. Did you know that in the middle ages people took yearly baths? Of course they had to wear scented oils in their hair and hung bags of potpourri around their necks, but they only bathed once a year."

"Don't bother," said Zabini to Draco, "she won't leave no matter what you say. Believe me, I've tried. It's best to ignore her."

"You know, Luna," said Anne as she turned to her friend, "I'm _so_ looking forward to potions tomorrow."

"That's the first thing you've said right all day," said Draco.

"Do you think that if I do well enough that Professor Snape will make me an honorary Slytherin?"

"Not this again."

"Look," said Draco interrupting Anne, "you can't change houses. Not now, not ever. You're in Hufflepuff and you'll always be a Hufflepuff."

Anne looked at him in shock at his vehemence and her lower lip trembled.

"Oh, Merlin!" said Draco, "no, don't cry, don't cry." He tried to reassure her, but it was no use. Anne burst into loud tears that echoed around the hall. Everyone stilled and turned to look at her.

"I'm saa-aaad!" she wailed. "And it's all your fault!" she continued and she threw a napkin in Draco's face. She stood up and ran out of the hall. The butterflies and furry creatures which usually followed in her wake stayed behind to glare evilly at Draco, but the effect was lost since none of them had pointy teeth.

"Yeah, well, at least I shower every day!" Draco shouted after her.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own the potter-verse. I make no money from this story, etc, etc.

Chapter Five

That night the owls flew fast and furious.

Daddy—

You won't believe what happened and it's all Draco Malfoy's fault! That boy made me cry! I want to cut out his heart with a spoon!

Much Love,

Anne

Daughter—

I was pleased to hear how eager you were to revenge yourself until I learned that you cried in front of the entire student body of Hogwarts. Such behavior is unacceptable. Furthermore, my sources tell me you have not ceased such despicable behaviors as frolicking and cavorting. Your allowance is suspended as of this moment.

Sincerely&etc,

Daddy

Mr. Malfoy—

You have one chance to rectify the situation between my daughter and your son. I will not have her sniveling in front of the entire school on account of your brat again.

Sincerely&etc,

Lord Voldemort

Draco—

You will apologize to Miss Smith immediately and make every possible amends or I'll make sure a certain person knows to skip our house Christmas Eve.

Love,

PopPop

In his dormitory, Draco looked at the missive from his father in horror. "No, he wouldn't," he gasped, "He wouldn't tell Santa! No!" Draco crumbled to his knees. "I'll be good!" he wailed repeatedly while rocking back and forth.

"Draco, snap out of it!" said Blaise Zabini. When Draco didn't answer, Blaise conjured a bucket of water and splashed Draco with it. Draco looked at Blaise with his mouth gaping. "There is no Santa, you nitwit," snapped Blaise.

At that news, Draco fell apart all over again.

"I give up," said Blaise, throwing the bucket over his shoulder which ricocheted off Crabbe's head and hit Goyle, knocking them both out. "I'm going to the kitchens."

Tuesday morning found Anne sitting at the Hufflepuff table where she belonged, but she was far from happy. She sat picking at her food and staring glumly at the tabletop while Luna sat next to her eating ravenously.

"Saturn is in alignment with Venus tonight and you know what that means," said Luna as she gulped down a goblet of pumpkin juice. "An inter-dimensional hole will be ripped in the fabric of time and space and a plague of horny locusts from Pluto will descend upon our planet and eat everything in sight, down to the last bunny slipper."

Nearby Hufflepuffs eyed Luna warily, but Luna continued without noticing. "After breakfast I'm going to the kitchens to swipe some food and then I'm going to lock myself in the dungeons. Wanna come?"

Despite Luna's never-before-seen exuberance, Anne couldn't find it within herself to dredge up the necessary excitement.

"No, you go ahead, Luna," said Anne drearily. "I wouldn't want to miss Potions. It's the only thing I have to look forward to all day."

"Suit yourself," said Luna as she dumped an entire platter of sausage on her plate.

"Er, hello," said Draco as he sat himself next to Anne.

"What do you want?" she asked glumly.

"Merely the pleasure of your company at the Slytherin table."

"Why?" Anne looked at him suspiciously.

"Well, you know," said Draco, "it's just—uh, we have a lot in common?"

"We do?"

"Yes, we do," asserted Draco with a nod, "a love of furry creatures, for one thing." He gingerly reached out to pet a rabbit sitting on the table, but it bit him. "Ouch!"

Anne rolled her eyes. "Draco, I live with a man who lies for fun."

"See? See?" said Draco waving his hand around and splatting nearby Hufflepuffs with blood from his wound. "So do I! We _do_ have something in common!"

Anne just looked at him. "Draco," she finally said, "You're turning abnormally pale. You ought to go to the infirmary before you faint from loss of blood."

"Yes, you're right," said Draco in a daze, "you're absolutely right. I'll—I'll go right now." He stood clutching his hand and wobbled out of the hall.

Anne turned back to her breakfast. "I hope he doesn't faint on anybody. That could get messy."

Finishing her breakfast, Anne stood up and departed for the potions classroom. When she reached her destination, she paused in front of the classroom door and breathed in deeply. "This is a dream come true," she gushed. "I should savor this moment."

"I would appreciate it if you would do your savoring from your seat."

Anne whirled around to see a man in all black standing before her with a scowl planted on his face.

"In! Now!" he commanded.

Anne grinned at him and scurried in. Professor Snape swept behind her with a flourish and strode to the front of the classroom, taking his place behind the podium. He grinned predatorily.

"Welcome to sixth year potions," he sneered.

Anne sighed happily. "He sneers!" she exclaimed.

Snape threw her a disdainful look, but since Hufflepuffs were beneath his notice, he ignored her and continued.

"You have, by now, mastered the rudimentary skills necessary to brew the most basic of potions. Why you have decided to continue with your potions education is unimportant. Only know this: what you have learned in all of your previous years of schooling combined is not a tenth of what you will learn this year under my tutelage. By Christmas, you could sit the potions NEWT with any seventh year and pass with full marks. Or you will fail miserably."

Professor Snape paused and surveyed his class, all of whom were cowering in fear, except Miss Smith who was grinning happily. Professor Snape immediately discounted her as an anomaly, most likely accounted for by a certain hallucinogenic compound he had discovered missing this morning.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff," he snapped upon reaching this conclusion before continuing as if nothing had happened.

"Open your books to pa—"

An owl flew into the classroom through the only window, which was a small slit at ground level and therefore abutted the ceiling. It landed in front of Miss Smith and she took the letter it offered. Snape's eye twitched dangerously. He stalked to Miss Smith and held his hand out imperiously.

"The letter," he intoned.

"Of course, Professor," chirped Anne merrily.

Snape glowered at her and snapped the parchment open.

"Daughter," he read out loud. "Allow me to congratulate you for causing the Malfoy spawn to bleed and subsequently faint." Snape trailed off as he finished reading the letter to himself. When he finished, he crumpled up the offending parchment in his hand and glared at Miss Smith. He leaned forward to whisper icily in her face.

"So you're the cause of that particular incident," he hissed . "I knew bunnies had nothing to do with it. Why Malfoy would cover up for you, I will never understand." He straightened up and boomed, "Twenty points for disrupting my class, twenty-five for causing another student harm and detention for the remainder of the week." He whirled around and stalked to his desk.

"I won't be able to come to detention, sir," said Anne.

Snape paused. "Why is that?" he asked in deadly tones.

Anne smiled perkily at him. "I already have detention for the rest of the month with my head of house."

"Oh, I'm sure we can arrange something," promised Snape with a glint in his eye.

"I certainly hope so," said Anne, "You're already my favorite teacher!"

"Ten points for lying and another ten for sucking up!"

Anne gasped. "But, sir," she protested, "I couldn't lie about something like that! I'm a horrible liar!"

"That much is obvious," snarled Snape.

Forgetting her protestations, Anne cradled her chin in her hand and dreamily sighed, "Sarcasm."

Deciding that enough class time had already been wasted, Snape merely rolled his eyes and continued with the lesson.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own the potter-verse. I make no money from this story, etc, etc.

Chapter Six

At lunch Anne returned to the Slytherin table with a wonderful surprise.

"Isn't he the most horrific thing you've ever seen?!" she cooed.

"What is it?"

"A Peruvian Viper! Oh, I knew Daddy loved me," continued Anne with a smile. "He knows I can't stand snakes."

"Uh, congratulations?" said Goyle.

"In what demented part of the world is that supposed to make sense?" asked Blaise.

"She was obviously born under an opposites star," supplied Luna.

"What are you doing here?" Blaise asked her. "I thought you locked yourself in the dungeon."

Luna sighed morosely. "I did. But then I realized my calculations were off and the locusts wouldn't be coming for another one hundred and thirteen years."

"Thank goodness," said Crabbe.

Hearing Crabbe's statement, Blaise looked at him in horror.

"No," he said, "you couldn't have—you're not—what's that in your ear?"

Crabbe fingered his new stud.

"You like it? Luna did it for me. I wanted a carrot at first, but she convinced me that turnips were more my style."

"Nooooooooooooooo!" screamed Blaise. "My roommate's been brainwashed into a Luna groupie!"

"Oh, it's not so bad," said Dumbledore coming up behind him and patting him on the shoulder. "The girl has rather good fashion sense." Dumbledore gave him a final fatherly pat before walking away while fingering his own new earring.

"Sorry I'm late," said Draco as he sat at the table. "What's wrong with Zabini?"

"He doesn't like Crabbe's new earring."

"Oh," said Draco with a strange look on his face. "Earring. Riiiiiiiight. So, Anne, what's new with you?"

"Daddy sent me a Peruvian Viper!"

Draco grinned grimly. "This day just keeps getting better and better," he said.

"Oh, I know!" said Anne happily. "It started out horrible enough, I'll admit, but potions was a dream and now this! I'm only sorry that my new present seems to like eating my furry friends. Well, I'll have him cured of that in no time."

"How are you going to do that?" asked Pansy.

"Oh, I can speak to snakes."

"Excuse me. Did I hear you say you could speak to snakes?"

Anne turned around and there was Harry from the train.

"Oh there you are, Harry," said Anne. "I knew you would turn up eventually, since you're friends with Luna and all."

"What do _you_ want, Pothead?" sneered Draco. "This is a private party."

"Is it alright if I speak with your snake?" asked Harry, completely ignoring Draco for once in his life.

"Of course," said Anne, who was, by coincidence, also ignoring Draco.

_"Hello,"_ said Harry in parseltongue. _"I'm Harry. What's your name?"_

_"Shashwat,"_ hissed Anne's viper as it swayed gently from its perch draped over Anne's shoulder.

_"That's a mouthful,"_ said Harry. "_Can I call you Wat?"_

_"No,"_ said Shashwat, "_you may not shorten my name in any way, shape or form."_

_"Oh,"_ said Harry, taken aback. _"Does you name have a special meaning?"_

_"The one who named me said it means everlasting, but it matters not to me. I care not about such things."_

"_My daddy picked his name,"_ interrupted Anne. _"He has horrid taste. I told Shashwat he could pick another name if he wants, but he really doesn't give a damn." _

Without realizing it, Harry continued talking to Anne in parseltongue instead of English. The pair of them were getting very strange looks from the others at the table.

"_Why don't you pick out a different name then?"_ asked Harry.

_"Oh, I couldn't do that,"_ hissed Anne. _"It would hurt Daddy's feelings." _

_"I've allowed humans to name me once; I will not allow my name to be changed at will," _hissed Shashwat sternly.

_"I hadn't thought of that,"_ said Harry. _"Did you have a different name before?"_

_"Yes,"_ said Shashwat. _"I was called, 'Snake'." _

_"Oh,_" said Harry, taken aback once again.

_"Animals don't come up with individual names the way humans do,"_ explained Anne. _"They don't need to because they don't rely as heavily on visual cues to differentiate each other as humans do. They rely more on smell."_

_"I didn't know that,"_ said Harry, _"but I've never had a pet before I got my owl and I can't talk to her." _

_"It really is too bad, isn't it?" _said Anne. _"I wish I could talk to all animals and not just snakes, don't you?"_

_"Er, I hadn't thought of it before." _

_"You don't think much, do you?" _observed Shashwat.

_"Hush, Shashwat_," said Anne.

Harry blushed in embarrassment before remembering that nobody else could tell what they were saying.

"Anne, we have class," said Luna.

"Oh, right," Anne said. "It was nice talking to you, Harry."

A month later and Dumbledore was holding an urgent meeting in his office.

"Insane, you say?" asked Flitwick worriedly.

"I'm afraid so," said Dumbledore sadly. "Unfortunately, this means we must replace not only our Herbology teacher, but also the head of Hufflepuff house."

"Obviously," sneered Snape.

"But are the healers at St. Mungo's absolutely certain?" asked McGonagall.

"Quite," answered Dumbledore. "Though they surmise she may recover if she keeps her distance from a certain—person."

"Hellion, you mean," said Snape.

"That's no way to speak of Miss Smith."

"I'll speak of her as I choose," insisted Snape. "She's caused utter chaos amongst my Slytherins."

"And her hygiene is a problem," complained Flitwick.

"Perhaps a letter to her parents is in order?" suggested Dumbledore.

"Who are her parents?" asked McGonagall.

"I don't know," murmured Dumbledore thoughtfully while stroking his beard.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" demanded Snape. "Where is her paperwork? Surely you received it; it's required for admittance."

"Oh yes, we received paperwork," said Dumbledore, "including her academic history, placement scores, allergies, that sort of thing, but her parent's names were left blank."

"Well, she didn't appear out of thin air," huffed McGonagall.

"And she receives constant correspondence," added Snape, "even during classes." He sniffed loudly, offended by the audacity. "Someone must be writing her."

"I suppose we could ask her?" suggested Flitwick.

Three heads swiveled to stare at Snape. He drew himself up angrily.

"Why am _I_ always given the unpleasant tasks?" he spat. "This is a job for her head of house."

"She has none," reminded Dumbledore, "and she seems to have a peculiar affinity for your house."

"What about Ravenclaw?" growled Snape. "Her first friend was that Lovegood chit, don't forget."

"She has friends in all houses," said McGonagall, "except her own."

"I wonder why that is?" sneered Snape, "perhaps it's because she doesn't _belong_ there."

"Yes, she has been quite ostracized by the other Hufflepuff students," commented McGonagall. "Perhaps she would be better off in a different house."

Snape looked horrified. "You're not suggesting—"

"You're the one who brought it up," said McGonagall primly.

"Please," interrupted Dumbledore. "Let's do this one thing at a time, shall we? Now, the first thing to do is find out who her parents are. From there, we'll discuss, with her parents, what needs to be done to ensure that Miss Smith has the best experience possible at Hogwarts."

"Fine," spat Snape, standing up and drawing his robes about him. "I'll speak to Miss Smith as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Severus," said the Headmaster pleasantly. "Have a cookie, before you leave?"

Snape paused. "Chocolate-chocolate-chip?"

"Of course!"

"I'd rather eat my own hand!" exclaimed Snape and he flung himself out of the headmaster's office in a flurry of robes.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter Seven

"Miss Smith, you will stay after class," commanded Snape.

Anne smiled brightly before she remembered who she was, where she was and what she was actually supposed to be doing as the daughter of an evil madman. She scowled ferociously.

"I hate you!" she yelled, before breaking down and grinning at him like the dickens.

The rest of the class paused as they were filing out the door and stared at her in shock. Snape twitched dangerously, but merely closed his eyes before ordering the remainder of the class to leave _if they valued their lives_.

"Oh, I love it when you do that, sir," simpered Anne.

"Do what?" snapped Snape.

"Threaten the students! It reminds me of my father," said Anne.

"Speaking of your father," said Snape whilst drawing together some papers on his desk, "who is he?"

"Pardon?" asked Anne whose face had paled dramatically.

"Who are your parents, little girl?" he drawled menacingly, eyes narrowed.

"But don't you know?" asked Anne. "Father speaks of you quite often."

Snape paused, taken aback. His close acquaintances were few and far between—and he couldn't imagine who the deuce would bother talking about him to their daughter. He had to narrow down the possibilities.

"Ah. I suppose I see him often when I drop off potions at St. Mungo's, then," he said.

"Oh no, silly," grinned Anne. "Daddy doesn't work at St. _Mungo's_. He's self-employed and in the papers quite a bit."

"In the papers?" mused Snape, stroking his chin. "Andy Dalian?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed Anne. "Why, it's Tom Riddle. Didn't you know?" Suddenly Anne clapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes grew wide. "Oops!" she exclaimed. She giggled nervously. "I'm always forgetting that I mustn't tell the truth."

Shashwat poked his head out of his mistress' bag and hissed.

"Well, I know _that_," said Anne in exasperation.

Snape looked from Anne to her snake and began to look decidedly green. He suddenly let out a bark of laughter.

"Hah! Tom Riddle! Hah!" He began to sway where he stood. "He—procreated." His face went from green to yellow. "Hah! Uh—I think I'm going to be sick." Then Snape threw up all over his desk.

"Well, he is human," stated Anne in defense of her father.

"That's debatable," wheezed Snape under his breath before pointing his wand at his desk and cleaning it up. "Who else knows who your father is?"

"Well, I accidentally told some Slytherins that my father was Tom Riddle, but they didn't know who he was. They only know him as the Dark Lord, of course. Then there are the Lestranges, they raised me. And Draco's father pays for my upbringing, though I've never met him and he's been sworn to secrecy."

"I see. At least we have that to be thankful for."

"Oh, I know," said Anne. "If anyone found out, I'd probably be toast, quite literally."

"You're toast already," growled Snape. "What has the Dark Lord said about your relationship with Harry Potter?"

"Harry Potter?" said Anne brightly. "Oh, I haven't met him yet."

Snape raised an incredulous eyebrow. "What do you mean, you haven't met him? I've seen you speak with him regularly. He's even been seen talking to your snake."

"You mean my friend, Harry?" said Anne. "Goodness, it's not as if Harry's an uncommon name, is it? I'm sure he can't be the only Harry in school. No, the Harry I know isn't Harry Potter. He would have told me."

Snape could only stare at her before beginning to bang his head against the nearby blackboard repeatedly. Finally he stopped and sighed.

"Miss Smith," he began, turning toward her, "get to class. You're late and I have students to teach." He gestured to the waiting crowd milling outside the door.

Anne turned to leave.

"And Miss Smith?" said Snape.

Anne paused and turned to look at the professor with a large smile on her face.

"One thousand points from Hufflepuff for calling me silly."

That evening, Professors Snape and Dumbledore met in the headmaster's office.

"We have a problem," began Snape.

"Oh?"

"Miss Anne Smith's father just so happens to be one Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"I see."

"That's it? How can you take this so calmly?"

Dumbledore rolled his eyes. "She's a student, Severus and will be treated as such. I will send Mr. Riddle the appropriate letter inviting him to discuss his daughter's behavior and hygiene."

"You're insane," said Snape with a shake of his head. "You're going to invite him to Hogwarts, just like that?"

"Of course," said Dumbledore popping a lemon drop in his mouth.

"Harry, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," said Anne urgently, speaking in a near whisper as they happened to be studying in the library.

"Yes?" he replied absently, turning a page.

"I love your glasses... they're really round... like marbles."

Harry put down his book slowly and stared at Anne with a confused furrow between his brows.

"I'm sorry, that was so random," giggled Anne, "but I've been wanting to say it for ever so long and I've been so pleased that Shashwat has taken to you; if only you were in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor."

"As a matter of fact," said Harry clearing his throat, "the sorting hat did tell me that I could be great in Slytherin."

"Oh!" sighed Anne in delight. She cradled her chin in her hand and stared at him dreamily. "If only it were true," she murmured. "Then you would be my dream prince."

"Yeah," said Harry scratching his head. "Well I'm not, so you know—" He trailed off, not knowing what to say. He turned back to his book.

"Pothead," said Draco Malfoy as he spotted the pair. "What are you doing in the library? I didn't know you could read."

Harry sneered, but before he could speak, Anne interrupted.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed. "You sneered!"

"So?" spat Draco. "I can sneer, too."

Anne ignored Draco, who couldn't stand not being the center of attention, so he left.

"Thank goodness he's gone," growled Harry. "What a git!"

"But Harry," Anne pouted, "Draco's my friend. Surely you two can be friends?"

"I doubt it," said Harry darkly.

"Oh, to have the love of my life be at odds with my friends!" exclaimed Anne dramatically, throwing a hand over her forehead. "It is not to be born! I shall be weeping and cursing my fate in the Astronomy tower if you need me!"

"I'll see you later," called Harry after Anne's retreating form.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, etc, etc.

Chapter Eight

"Ah, Mr. Riddle," said Dumbledore from behind his desk. "Do have a seat."

"I received your letter."

"So I presumed," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Biscuits? Lemon drop?"

"No," scowled Lord Voldemort.

"Ah, well. Then I suppose I should start at the beginning. Mr. Riddle, allow me to be quite frank. Your daughter stinks."

Lord Voldemort jumped from his seat. "You dog! How dare you cast aspersions on her magical abilities! Why, she is more pure of blood than—"

"I meant quite literally, Mr. Riddle, I assure you. You see, she has given up bathing."

"Oh." Lord Voldemort sat down. "I wondered what that smell was."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Her stench has quite overtaken the school and her classmates are quite at their wits end. They have tried, quite unsuccessfully, to convince her to take a bath or a swim in the lake at the very least, but it is all quite in vain."

"I see."

"I and the faculty were hoping you could have a word with her? You are, after all, quite persuasive."

"Yes," said Lord Voldemort, "I might be persuaded to do so, if you would quit saying quite, you blithering idiot!" Lord Voldemort had jumped from his seat again, waving his wand wildly and with a mad gleam in his eye.

"Yes," said Dumbledore calmly, "but that is not the only reason I requested this meeting with you."

Lord Voldemort sat back down again, calm once more. "Oh?" he said conversationally.

"You see, she is doing exceedingly poor in Hufflepuff house—"

"Good. Serves the wretch right, getting into such a putrid house."

Dumbledore ignored him. "—and has been ostracized by her fellow housemates. Not to mention, that she has not been able to form a pleasant relationship with her head of house at all and has instead driven the poor woman mad!"

"Mad, you say?" said Lord Voldemort, perking up. "Perhaps there is hope for the girl after all."

"At any rate, though it would be breaking protocol, it has been suggested that your daughter be resorted. I have taken the liberty of sending for her, so that she may be resorted posthaste."

Voldemort was paying no attention whatsoever and was instead outlining the rim of his mouth with a pale finger while muttering to himself and staring at a corner of the rug. There was a knock at the door.

"Ah, that will be Anne now. Come in!" called Dumbledore.

"Hallo Headmaster," said Anne pleasantly as she stepped through the door.

Voldemort gagged as the strengthened smell of her stench wafted over him and Fawkes fainted dead away. Only Anne and Dumbledore seemed unperturbed.

"Miss Smith," said Dumbledore. "Do sit down."

Anne sat in one of two chairs in front of the headmaster's desk. She chanced a glance at who was in the other chair, but beyond the trench coat, fedora and ridiculously large sun glasses, Anne could not make out any features which would allow her to guess the person's identity.

"Miss Smith, you of course know Mr. Riddle," said Dumbledore when neither person said anything.

Anne gasped happily. "Daddy!" she yelled and threw herself into his arms.

Being brought out of his reverie so suddenly, Lord Voldemort screamed and flailed about magnificently, nearly poking Anne's eye out with his wand. Mistaking her father's screams for screams of joy, Anne only screamed louder with a large grin on her face. This continued until McGonagall burst into the room in a flurry of robes. Father and daughter were silenced into surprise and both looked at her with mouths agape.

"Good heavens," said McGonagall, "what the devil is going on here?"

"Why, nothing at all, Minerva," said Dumbledore blithely. "Merely a family reunion."

"A fine how-do-you-do," said McGonagall. "The first years were scared into hysterics!"

"I assure you, Minerva, it will not happen again," said Dumbledore.

"See that it doesn't!" Minerva exited swiftly.

"Oh Daddy, I'm so happy to see you!" exclaimed Anne once the deputy headmistress was gone.

"Yeah, well—" said Lord Voldemort eloquently.

"I mean," said Anne backing up and trying to put on her best scowl, "I suppose I could be happy to see you if I have to." Then she sneered.

Lord Voldemort sniffed.

"Are you alright, Daddy?" asked Anne, concerned.

"I'm fine," he growled. "I just—I just have something in my eye."

"They do grow up quickly, don't they?" said Dumbledore.

"Shut up!" snarled Voldemort. He turned his head away and began surreptitiously swiping at his eyes.

"Well my dear," said Dumbledore, "let's get you resorted, shall we?"

"I'm to be resorted?"

"Yes, yes," said Dumbledore as he grabbed the hat. "Sit down."

Anne sat and Dumbledore placed the hat on her head.

"Hmphf," began the hat, "resorted indeed. Why, this has never happened in all my days. Why bother sorting in the first place, if no one will abide by my decision? I ask you! Well, if Hufflepuff isn't good enough for you, better be RAVENCLAW!"

"Goodness, no need to shout," reprimanded Dumbledore. "We're not in the Great Hall, you know."

If the hat had a face, it would have glared at the headmaster. As it was, it merely rippled its brim angrily and shouted, "I QUIT! IS THAT LOUD ENOUGH FOR YOU?! TELL ME HOW TO DO MY JOB, WILL YOU? I QUIT!"

Then the hat burst into flames, it was that angry. Unfortunately, it was not a phoenix and it burnt to ashes, never to be reborn.

"Good heavens," said Dumbledore. "However shall we sort now? Ah! I have it! We'll have a Sorting Sock! Yes, the alliteration fairly gives me tingles! Why, it sounds almost as good as Severus Snape, Rowena Ravenclaw or Helga Hufflepuff! Not to mention Filius Flitwick, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor or Dudley Dursley."

Dumbledore bustled off, presumably to his own quarters to find an appropriate sock. When Dumbledore was gone, Lord Voldemort rose from his seat in all his trench-coated glory.

"Walk with me," he commanded his daughter.

A/N: I've had problems getting Dumbledore's character right in previous chapters, but I think I finally got him right... or at least, better.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the HP universe.

Chapter Nine

Voldemort stalked down the corridors of the Halls of Hogwarts with Anne struggling to keep up with him. He stopped suddenly.

"Where's Shashwat?" he asked as if he had only just remembered the existence of such an animal.

"Oh, he's down in the dungeons hunting," explained Anne. "If he knew you were coming—" she paused and a silly grin exploded on her face before she burst into song. "— he'd a baked a cake! Baked a cake! If he knew you were coming he'd a baked a cake, how'd you do? How'd you do? How'd you do? If you'd a dropped him a letter he'd a—"

"Enough!" bellowed Voldemort looking apocalyptic. Then he deflated and sighed. "Whatever shall I do with you?" he asked. "On the one hand, I'm immensely proud of you for being sorted into Ravenclaw—" his face darkened, "and on the other hand, I want to crucio you silly for your ridiculous behavior! Singing in the halls?! What's the matter with you?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," said Anne. Her lower lip quivered.

"Never mind," said Voldemort. "I have something important to discuss with you."

"What's that, Daddy?"

Voldemort pursed his lips—a great feat indeed, considering he didn't have any—and continued down the hall. Anne followed him.

"Your hygiene," he said.

"Oh," said Anne, eyes wide.

"Need I say more?" asked Voldemort, raising a non-existent eyebrow.

"No," said Anne with a sigh. "But I was so sure no one had noticed."

Voldemort rolled his eyes, holding them in his left hand. He gave them a nonchalant toss in the air before catching them and replacing them in the holes behind his dark frames. Finally they had reached the entrance hall and the last class before lunch was just getting out.

"I'll see you at Christmas," said Voldemort. He glanced around the hall once last time before slipping out the double doors.

"Is he gone?"

Anne turned around and grinned at her double. "Yes, he's gone."

"Good. The polyjuice is just starting to wear off."

"Oh, I know," said Anne, lifting one of her locks into the air meditatively. "Do you think he suspected?"

"How would I know, Luna? I wasn't the one talking to him," said Anne.

The pair linked arms and began walking to their next class.

"So, did you get me sorted into Ravenclaw?" asked Anne.

"Of course," said Luna.

All of a sudden, screams could be heard from out on the grounds. Anne and Luna glanced at each other worriedly before turning and running out the doors. A crowd was gathered on the lawn around a writhing Harry.

"MY SCAR! AHH! MY SCAR!"

"Hermione!" yelled Ron. "What's the matter with him?"

"I don't know!" Hermione yelled back wringing her hands. "I think it's his scar!"

Luna and Anne were unable to force their way through the crowd and stood on the edge, Anne with a concerned look on her face.

"What do you think is going on?" Anne asked Luna.

"Well," said Luna, "if it's not an extreme case of Flaming Humalumapit, then Harry is most likely suffering from Voldemort exposure."

"What do you mean?"

"It's Potter!" McGonagall, who had just pushed her way through the crowd, announced to the Professors behind her. "Clear the way," McGonagall snapped at the surrounding students and they obediently widened the circle to allow their teachers through.

Anne looked as if she had seen a ghost or been splashed with a bucket of ice water as she watched McGonagall tow Harry into the castle on a stretcher.

"Did she say Potter?" asked Anne. She giggled nervously. "I mean," she said, "I thought Snape was pulling my leg—"

"Don't be ridiculous," sneered Draco, who had apparently been standing nearby when Harry collapsed and stuck around to watch the show. "Snape doesn't pull legs, he pulls rank," he said matter-of-factly.

"But Harry just _can't_ be, well, that Harry," said Anne.

"There's only one Harry in school, Anne," said Luna.

"Yes," said Draco, "and he's a _Potter_."

"But it's such a common name!" wailed Anne. "There should be at least a dozen Harry's in the school!"

Draco gave her a strange look as if he had only just discovered a new level of ludicrous right beneath his nose.

"Anne," said Luna gently, "why name a child Harry when there are such wonderful names like Albus or Dedalus? It just isn't done!"

"She's right, for once," said Draco.

Anne burst into tears and Draco shuffled his feet uncomfortably not know what to do while Luna took Anne's hand and began to hum a soothing song.

"There, there, it's all right," said Luna.

"But it's not!" sobbed Anne. "You just don't know! None of you know! This is the worst day of my life! And I was going to marry him, but now he's Harry Potter and it would be impossible because Daddy would just kill me and him and a half dozen muggles before he let me marry him! I can't stand living!"

Anne tore her hand out of Luna's grasp and ran into the castle.

A/N: I'm starting school, so updates won't be as frequent, but never fear; I am not abandoning the story.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This chapter gets serious. Don't worry. The mood picks back up 'round Christmas.

Chapter 10

"Well," huffed Draco.

"Indeed," replied Luna.

Draco shifted the strap on his book bag, shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "So, aren't you going to go after her?"

"Oh no," said Luna. "I have class. But you have a free period, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Draco. "How did you know?"

"The little man on your shoulder told me."

Draco glared. "I don't suppose he also told you where Anne went, did he?" He grit his teeth.

"Of course not," said Luna, "he's psychotic, not physic. Besides, I already know where she goes when she's upset; I didn't need _him_ to tell me that."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well where does she go when she's upset?"

"Oh, she goes to an empty room across from the entrance to the Slytherin common room."

"Figures," said Draco.

"Later, Draco!" sang Luna and she skipped away.

Draco began his trek down to the dungeon, grumbling all the way, and slipped into the room Luna had told him about. The room had formerly been a study hall for mixed study groups, but had been abandoned for many years on account of nobody studied anymore—they just had angst. Anne was sitting at a table with her head in her hands. Draco sat next to her.

"Why are you even friends with Potter anyway?" he asked. "It's not like he's that great or anything."

Anne sat up and sighed. "I met him on the train," she began, "and he snickered. I couldn't help myself after that." She began drawing designs in the dust on the table with her finger and sighed again. "And the best part was that he could snicker and still be a good person. I used to think only evil people ever snickered or sneered or were sarcastic and I didn't think I'd ever be able to do those things. He was my inspiration."

"Wow," said Draco, "I didn't know normal people sneered. I thought it was only Slytherins or people whose name began with 's'."

"Yeah, I know," said Anne. She paused and suddenly asked, "Why don't you like Harry?"

"Why should I?" said Draco with a scowl.

"My father doesn't like him, either," said Anne.

"Oh," said Draco and then he lowered his voice, "Is your father a Death Eater, too?"

"Well, sort of," said Anne with a wince.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's complicated," said Anne.

"You can tell me," said Draco.

Anne bit her lip before making her decision and leaning forward to whisper into Draco's ear. When she was finished, he pulled back to look at her properly with wide eyes.

"Really?" he asked incredulously. He narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you. You don't look a bit like him."

Anne rolled her eyes. "That's because I look like my mother," she said.

"Oh yeah? If Voldemort is supposed to be your father, then who is your mother?"

Anne paled. "She's dead," she snapped. "I don't talk about her."

"You're lying."

"Fine," shouted Anne and she jumped up. "You want to know about my mother? My mother was Belladonna Decatur, best friend of Bellatrix LeStrange. After my mom had me, she became weak and she died less than a year later. She _died_ and it was my fault. I made her sick. So shut up and don't talk about my mother to me, you flaming asshole."

Anne gathered her book bag and swept out of the room with the force of a miniature gale. Draco winced.

Three weeks later, Anne still was not speaking to Draco, but then she wasn't really talking to anyone besides Luna anymore. The two were inseparable and Luna tried to cheer up her friend, but nothing could pull Anne out of her horrific mood. One Sunday, late in November, Anne was sitting at the front steps of Hogwarts, waiting for the arrival of her father. She held the note he had sent her loosely in her hand and reread it constantly.

Daughter—

I've arranged to pick you up at Hogwarts for an outing. Expect me at three and dress appropriately for the weather.

Sincerely&etc,

Daddy

Anne shivered and pulled her cloak closer around her body. It was drizzling and decidedly gloomy. When Anne saw her father across the grounds, she stood and swiftly walked to him. She reached him and he put a hand on her shoulder, grabbing her chin with his other hand, and forcing her to look at him.

"No polyjuice this time," he said grimly after gazing into her eyes.

"No," said Anne.

He let her go and took a step away from her. "Come," he said and he turned and began to walk away. Anne followed.

"You continually surprise me," he said.

"I'm sorry," whispered Anne.

He glanced at her sharply. "Don't be," he said.

They passed the gates of Hogwarts and Lord Voldemort grabbed his daughter's hand and apparated her to a cemetery. Anne looked around her and a choking noise escaped her throat.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked. She backed away from him. "Why are you punishing me?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Voldemort.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Anne looked around wildly. "This is what you do with your Death Eaters, isn't it? Bring them to cemeteries, so you can kill them?"

"You're not one of my Death Eaters," hissed Voldemort, grabbing Anne by the wrists. "Stop it," he commanded.

Anne refused to look at him and instead looked over his shoulder, her eyes widening as she took in the headstones.

"I said stop it," hissed Voldemort. Anne's eyes snapped to his face. He held her gaze for one long second before dropping her wrists and taking a step away from her.

"I thought you'd like to see your mother," he said, avoiding her eyes. "Today with me," he amended lamely, "because—" He stopped and couldn't seem to find the words to continue. "Well, because," he finally said.

"Oh," said Anne. She looked at her shoes and said, "Ok."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 11

They walked among the tombstones, father and daughter, side by side. When they arrived at the appropriate headstone, they stopped and bowed their heads. Voldemort's arms were crossed and he was staring vacantly at the simple, black headstone. Anne was simultaneously shivering and sniffling. They stood in this pose for several moments before Voldemort spoke in a low voice, still looking at the headstone.

"I heard about Potter," he said.

Anne stiffened. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"That you love him," growled Voldemort. "Don't deny it."

"I wasn't!" protested Anne. "I was just checking to see what exactly you had heard."

Voldemort paused and narrowed his eyes at her. "Hmmm," he said. "A fairly devious tactic. Hogwarts really is doing wonders for your education."

"Thanks," muttered Anne, "but I really don't love Harry. Not anymore, anyway."

"Good," said Voldemort, "because you're not allowed to fall in love with anyone. And if any boy ever so much as _looks_ at you sideways, I'll hex him to hell and back."

"Yes, Daddy, I know."

"Besides, you're engaged to the Malfoy brat."

"I'm _what_?!"

"I would have much rather betrothed you to one of Snape's sons, but he never had any, unfortunately."

"Wuf," moaned Anne disconsolately. "I think I'm going to be sick. Please tell me Draco doesn't know."

"Of course he doesn't," said Voldemort. "The boy's a _Slytherin_. He'd completely use the situation to his advantage. Nobody's allowed to take advantage of _my_ daughter."

"Thanks, Daddy, but I want to find love the normal way—like you and Mum did."

Voldemort stiffened. "Normal isn't good enough," he snapped at her. "You'll do as I say."

"But Daddy—"

"That's enough," shouted Voldemort.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"Come," said Voldemort finally. "I must return you to school grounds."

The pair left and Voldemort deposited her at the gate.

"Till Christmas," he said.

"Yes, Daddy," said Anne with a pout, still thinking about her betrothal to Draco.

Anne spent the remainder of the time before dinner in the library, studying moodily in a dark corner and bemoaning her fate. At dinner that evening, there was an announcement.

"I have an announcement," announced Dumbledore. "We have a new Herbology teacher and head of Hufflepuff house! Everyone please welcome Miss Dianna Sprightly."

Professor Sprightly stood and waved to the student body cheerfully. She was tall and slender, like a willow, and had a gleaming, bright smile. Professors McGonagall and Snape looked at each other and shuddered in unison.

"Blimey, she's _hot_," said Goyle at the Slytherin table.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Draco.

"I dunno—heard it in the common room," said Goyle.

"Ah, you must have run into some wickety-wick-wicks," said Luna.

"You really think so?" asked Crabbe eagerly.

"Of course," said Luna. "They have a tendency to gather in castle dungeons; everyone knows that."

"Gee, Goyle," said Crabbe enviously, "you get all the breaks."

"Quiet!" said Blaise, "I'm trying to tune into normal here."

"Why bother trying?" murmured Anne. "Normal's not good enough—maybe eating's not good enough. Maybe I should quit eating. And I'll stop taking showers again. ... show him—normal's just fine... wanna see normal, that's fine. Wanna see better than normal, that's just fine."

"Huh?" said Blaise.

"I hate my life," sighed Anne under her breath.

"Are you ok, Anne?" asked Draco.

Anne looked at him and sneered. "Shut up, Draco," she said. "I'm still not talking to you."

Draco looked stricken.

"Gee," whispered Crabbe to Goyle, "I've never seen her sneer and mean it before. It's kind of scary."

"Yeah," agreed Goyle.

"I've gotta go," muttered Anne distractedly. "I've got plans—things to do."

"I'll come with you," said Luna dreamily. "I wanted to collect some tumsinoid seeds on the way to the common room tonight."

They were nearly to their common room when Luna broke the silence.

"You've been angry at Draco for a long time, haven't you?"

"Of course I'm angry at him," said Anne. "He's Draco. Isn't everyone mad at him for some reason or other?"

"You didn't use to be," said Luna.

Anne shrugged uncomfortably. Luna shrugged, too.

"Oh well," she said. "At least you don't have to marry him."

Anne scowled.

"Oh look," said Luna. "A Pruberfin!"

The next day, Anne was on her way to Herbology when Harry Potter stepped into her path.

"Hi! Long time, no see," he said with a smile. "Where's Shashwat?"

"He's sleeping in my room," replied Anne stiffly.

"Oh," said Harry. "Well, can I walk you to your class?"

"No, actually," said Anne, "I don't believe in walking."

She winced internally whilst brushing past Harry and hurrying toward the greenhouses.

"Well, ok then," Harry said in confusion. "I'll see you later."

Anne kept her head down and was nearly to the door of Greenhouse number five when suddenly a figure in a dark cloak appeared and grabbed her by her elbow. Anne gasped, simultaneously drawing her wand. She settled down when she realized who it was.

"Draco, don't scare me like that," she said. "I almost avada'd you on the spot."

Draco paled, but ignored what Anne said in favor of completing what he started out to do.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

Anne scowled. "Why?" she demanded. "What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"Come in, come in!" a voice suddenly sang out. It was Professor Sprightly. "Come on you two," she said. "Class starts right now!" The professor grinned spectacularly and disappeared behind the door.

Anne pulled herself from Draco's grasp and followed the Professor inside the greenhouse, leaving Draco outside in the cold and wet.

A/N: Wow, I did not expect to get out another chapter tonight, but I just had to keep going. Anyway, I just wanted to say to my reviewers: thank you, I appreciate your feedback. I'd have more to say on the subject, but I know how annoying it is as a reader to see big, long acknowledgements at the ends of chapters. I always feel compelled to read them, too, for some reason.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Potter-verse.

Chapter Twelve

The new professor was cheerful yet commonplace, however, everyone seemed to like her despite her seeming normalcy. She was, after all, very approachable and made the subject seem enjoyable even to those who disliked it.

"I despise her," spat Anne to Luna after class.

"Really?" said Luna. "I rather thought she reminded me of you except older and before you became depressed."

"Depressed? I'm not depressed," said Anne with a scowl.

"Oh, you're right," agreed Luna. "You probably just got bit by a Dreenalcy. I wouldn't be surprised if your aura was completely black by now."

"I'm going to the library," said Anne sullenly.

"Ok," said Luna. "I'm going to go meet Vincent. He's madly in love with me."

Anne slunked into the library and disappeared into one of the many forgotten stacks in the back. She was quietly perusing the shelves when she heard voices.

"Harry, we can't give up; not now."

"Did I _say_ we should give up?"

"Not in so many words. But still, we can't relax our guard."

"Hermione, I'm doing the best I can, but I can't study for NEWTS _and_ find a way to destroy Voldemort at the same time."

Anne froze.

"Harry, we've had seven years to figure out a way to get rid of him."

"Three, actually."

"Fine, since fourth year, you're right, whatever." Hermione huffed. "Look," she said, "Forgot our studies. At least one of us has to focus completely on Voldemort."

"What?! Are you under the Imperius?"

"Calm down, Harry. Professor Dumbledore has arranged for me to take NEWTS over Christmas and then I'll be apprenticing with McGonagall. I'll have all the time in the world to figure out how to get rid of that bastard."

"Hermione, that's bloody brilliant! When did you—"

Anne dropped her book bag with a thud and tore down the aisle, away from the pair.

"What was that?" Anne distantly heard Hermione say as she sprinted out of the library and toward Dumbledore's office. Anne was barely able to see as the tears ran down her face and it was for this reason that she unwittingly ran straight into Dumbledore.

"Good heavens, child. Is the apocalypse upon us?" he said.

"They're going to kill him," she blubbered thickly.

"Kill who?" asked Dumbledore, his voice deepening with worry. "Is it Harry? Is Harry alright?"

"No," said Anne, pushing herself away from him. "It's not _him_," she spat.

Dumbledore handed her a handkerchief with a flourish while pursing his lips in thought. "Hmmmm," he said. "Is it Professor Snape?"

Anne shook her head.

"Hagrid? Professor Vector? Filch? Dobby? Is it one of the students?"

To all these Anne shook her head.

"Well, who is it, girl?" Dumbledore finally asked.

Anne paused and her lip quivered. "My daddy!" she finally said, sobbing into the handkerchief.

"Well of course, you silly thing," said Dumbledore. "He's the bad guy."

Anne sobbed louder.

"There, there," said Dumbledore. "You'll get over it. Have a lemon drop?"

Anne pushed the offered treat away and turned, running to the dungeons. She burst into Snape's office.

"You have to do something!" she demanded. Her face was slick with snot and tears and the light from the candles reflected off her face, making her look like a crazed, demonic angel.

Snape looked up from his book of romantic poetry and sighed heavily. He slowly removed his slim, silver spectacles from his nose and spoke, leaning back in his chair.

"What, exactly, would you have me do, Miss Smith?"

"You can't let them kill my father," she said.

Snape frowned lightly. "Are you only now figuring this out?" he asked. "You're in enemy territory, Miss Smith. Most within the castle are praying for his imminent death."

Anne looked at him with her mouth falling into a delicate 'o'. She looked at him for one long moment before breaking the silence.

"What do mean, 'you'? 'You're in enemy territory.' Why didn't you say, 'we'?" she asked, beginning to look stricken, her hands shaking.

"Don't be silly," snapped Snape. "You know which side I'm on."

Anne's lower lip quivered again, but she lifted her chin bravely. "He's not all bad. He had me, didn't he?"

Snape didn't say anything for a long while, looking at her with his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Finally one, long elegant hand scooped up the book he had set on his desk and one, long, elegant thumb flipped the cover open. He held the book open for a single moment before turning his gaze to it.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Smith," he said.

Anne grinned brilliantly. "Thank you, Professor," she said and she exited swiftly, closing the door softly behind her. She turned around and nearly walked right into Draco.

"Merlin," he said. "What happened to you? You look like a drowned rat."

Anne frowned.

"Uh, that's not what I meant. I meant, uh, rats are beautiful? No, uh—"

Anne smiled and shook her head. "Shut up, Draco, and walk me to supper."

"Oh, ok," he said.

"You don't want my father to die, do you, Draco?" asked Anne while threading her arm through Draco's.

"Er, no," he began, pulling at his collar uncomfortably, "no, of course not."

"Good. There are so few of us," said Anne, looking up at Draco's face, smiling pleasantly.

Draco looked down at Anne and without realizing it, stopped in his tracks. "Do you," he paused. "Do you want to see the Slytherin common room?"

Anne beamed at him. "_Do_ I?" she said. "Do dragons fly?"

Draco smiled back at her and began leading her back into the dungeons.

"I think you'll like," he said conversationally.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," affirmed Anne. "Green's my favorite color."

"Really?" said Draco. "I've always favored blue. I almost got sorted into Ravenclaw, you know."

"Isn't it sad we can't be sorted by what our favorite color is?"

Draco looked confused. "But that's so arbitrary," he said. "Like getting sorted based on your dominant hand or whether you're a morning person or not."

"I know," nodded Anne sagely. "Or like getting sorted based on what your personality is like."

Draco just looked at her and blinked.

"Oh, there it is!" exclaimed Anne. "The entrance."

She released Draco's arm and ran ahead. She fairly pranced in front of the entrance as she waited for Draco to arrive and grinned at him widely when he finally stood next to her.

"I've never been inside," she said breathlessly. "Except I've seen glimpses, of course, watching people come in and out."

Draco said loudly and clearly, "Bullocks."

Anne gasped and looked at him sadly. Draco rolled his eyes.

"It's the password," he explained, tugging the portrait open.

"Oh," said Anne as much as a way of expressing her understanding as expressing her excitement at finally fulfilling her one goal in life.

"This is it," said Draco, "the Slytherin common room."


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Potter-verse.

Chapter Thirteen

The pair stepped inside and both looked round in bewilderment.

"Is this a trick?" shouted Anne over the noise.

"Maybe it's the wrong common room," said Draco sincerely confused.

The cause for their bewilderment was simply thus: the Slytherin common room had been turned into a disco.

"What's going on?" asked Anne.

"Oh, it's simple really," said Luna who suddenly appeared out of the writhing crowd of dancers. She smiled blithely. "I've been crowned an honorary Slytherin. They're holding a party in my honor."

"What?" shrieked Anne with her mouth open.

Blaise approached with an open can of muggle orange soda in his hand and slid his arm around Luna's waist.

"Alright, love?" he asked.

"How could this happen?" asked Anne. Draco merely looked at the dancing crowd with wide eyes.

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm prince of Slytherin. I made it happen. Anything for my girl."

"But what about me?" asked Draco suddenly. "I'm supposed to be prince of Slytherin."

"Face it Draco—you're old news. Besides, you've got that unsightly, little, old man on your shoulder. Really, you ought to think about getting him removed."

"There is no little man on my shoulder!" yelled Draco.

"Whatever, man," said Blaise with a shrug. "Hey, we gotta split. This is our song."

Luna grinned up at Blaise as he whisked her away.

"I thought he hated her!" shrieked Anne.

"So did I!" said Draco.

"Do you think—" Anne paused. "Do you think we're in an alternate dimension?"

"I don't know. I suppose—I suppose it's possible."

"You know, I was a little suspicious when I saw Professor Snape reading love poems."

"Snape reads poetry?"

"Apparently."

"I think you're right. We must be in an alternate dimension."

"But how did it happen?"

"I don't know. But I know who we could ask. Come on."

Meanwhile in Dumbledore's office, the headmaster and head of Slytherin were having a very enlightening discussion.

"See this?" said Snape holding a vial aloft.

"Ummm... liquid sugar? Can I have some?" asked the headmaster with eagerly reaching fingers.

"No, you fool!" Snape quickly snatched the vial out of Dumbledore's hands. "This is a vial of synthesized liquid endorphins! How could you not tell the difference?"

"Oh," said Dumbledore and he seemed to fold in on himself in his disappointment. "Well, isn't that nice?" he said in a bored tone of voice.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Obviously not," he snarled, "and if you're going to take that tone with me, I'm leaving!"

With a whirl of his robes, Snape exited the office. At the bottom of the stairs he bumped into the new herbology teacher, Professor Sprightly.

"I beg your pardon," said Professor Snape stiffening upon contact with another human being.

"Oh, that's quite alright," said Professor Sprightly beaming up at him. "I was just looking for you in your office, but you weren't there."

"Obviously," huffed Snape, crossing his arms.

"I was hoping for a little chat," she said shyly, drawing nearer and lightly touching his forearm.

Snape shuddered. "Sorry," he said, "I avoid having little chats with people who have little minds."

Professor Sprightly's face crumpled, yet she did not cry. "You don't know anything about me," she said. "How can you say that?"

"Because," sneered Professor Snape, "you wear robes that _sparkle_." He shuddered again and swept away from her.

In the library, Draco and Anne approached the girl sitting at the table farthest from the main doors.

"Granger," hissed Draco.

Hermione looked up with a raised brow. "Yes?" she said. "How can I help you?"

"We're in need of someone with your particular—talents."

"Which ones?" asked Hermione, pulling out a list. "If you're looking for an aura reading, you'll have to ask Lavender Brown or Pavarti Patil and if there's any rule-breaking to be done, you'll have to sign some papers I had my lawyer draw up."

Draco and Anne gave each other significant looks.

"Anne and I are in a predicament."

"Oh, you're pregnant?" asked Hermione looking at Anne. "That's not a problem. What we'll do is—"

"Shut _up_, Granger," said Draco, looking around furtively. "Nobody's pregnant."

"That's impossible," said Hermione shaking her head. "After all, someone's pregnant _somewhere_."

"Quit being a know-it-all for once in your life and answer some questions."

Hermione leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Shoot," she commanded with a shrug of her shoulders.

"How does someone tell if they're in an alternate dimension?"

Hermione just looked at him.

"Well?" demanded Draco.

"Oh, _now_ you want me to be a know-it-all?" she smirked.

"Just answer the question," growled Draco.

"Please," added Anne.

Hermione returned the front legs of her chair to the ground and cocked her head, looking at the pair contemplatively.

"Have you walked into any vortexes?" she asked.

"No."

"Have you gone through any walls, tripped up or down the stairs or injured your head in a quidditch or other accident?"

"No."

"Gone through any mirrors?"

"No."

"Have you eaten any food or had anything to drink that made you feel—odd?"

"Define odd," snorted Draco.

"No," said Anne firmly, throwing Draco a look.

"Had any strange dreams?"

"No."

"Hmmmm," said Hermione. "Well, I'll give you my professional opinion."

"Yes?" said Draco leaning forward eagerly.

"You're definitely _not_ in an alternate dimension," said Hermione. She glanced at her bare wrist. "I'm late for dinner," she said. "I'll send you my fee by owl." Hermione gathered her things and swept toward the main doors. Harry stopped her.

"Hey, are you ok?" he asked in a low voice. "I just saw you talking to Malfoy."

"I'm fine, Harry," said Hermione with a toss of her hair. "Besides, that strange friend of Luna's was with him. He's always a fraction more civil when she's around."

"Anne was with him? What did they want?"

"They think they're in an alternate dimension."

"But alternate dimensions don't exist."

"Oh, I know," said Hermione. "Are you coming to dinner, Harry?"

Harry looked at Anne and Draco who were talking in frantic whispers. "Not now. I've got to talk to Anne," he said grimly.

Draco and Anne sat at the table Hermione had just vacated and began whispering.

"But we must be in an alternate dimension," said Anne. "Otherwise—well, it just can't be true that—that Luna—" Anne paused and muffled a sob.

"I'm sorry," said Draco looking stricken. "I didn't know—" He paused and tentatively brushed his hand against Anne's which rested in her lap. "I didn't know you loved Blaise," he continued.

Anne barked out a laugh despite her tears. "In love with Blaise?" she said. "No, it's not that." She sniffed.

"What is it then?"

"Draco, don't you remember?" asked Anne sadly. "Luna is an honorary Slytherin."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that."

"I'm sorry," said Draco.

"I just don't know what to do," said Anne, her hands fluttering nervously. "I mean, she's my best friend. I ought to be happy that my best friend fell in love and became an honorary Slytherin, but I can't. I just can't help _hating_ her for it."

Draco took her hand.

"Am I a horrible person?" Anne asked.

"Well," began Draco slowly, "I don't think—"

"Anne?" It was Harry. "Are you alright?" he asked. "What's going on?"

Anne stiffened and she averted her eyes, looking at the tabletop.

"Nothing that concerns you, Potter," snarled Draco, dropping Anne's hand and jumping out of his seat.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No need for dramatics, Malfoy. I was asking a simple question."

"She doesn't want to talk to you," Draco said.

"How do you know?" growled Harry.

They were interrupted by the soft fluttering of wings as an owl landed on the table in front of Anne. A sudden shriek pierced the air.

"An owl!" howled Madame Pince rushing toward them. "In my library!"

The owl was startled into taking off, but Anne was able to snatch the note from its talons beforehand.

"Get out!" Madame Pince yelled at the owl.

While Harry, Draco and the good Madame Librarian were occupied with the catastrophe of the owl, Anne quickly slipped out of the room and read the note. Stuffing it into her pocket, she hurried to the dungeons and slipped into Snape's office.

"Sir?" she said.

Professor Snape glowered at her from behind his desk.

"I have a solution to your problem," he said, holding aloft a vial of a clear liquid.

"Already?" asked Anne. "You discovered a solution within an hour?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Snape. "After I finished my book of verse, it took me a mere five minutes to discover a solution and another ten to brew it. I was going to ask Dumbledore if I could use some of the students as test subjects, but then I decided that I'm too brilliant to make mistakes."

"Sir," breathed Anne, "you're a genius!"

"I know," said Snape.

"You should marry Hermione Granger, sir. You would have absolutely brilliant children."

Snape turned green and looked like he was going to be sick. "Blerg," he gurgled as he shuddered in horror.

"Are you alright, Professor?" asked Anne.

Professor Snape gave one final shudder and composed himself. "I will be sending this first dose to your father," he said.

"Thank you, sir," said Anne, "but what does it do?"

Snape shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm telling him it will make him invincible."

"Oh," said Anne with a nod and a grin. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Potter-verse.

Chapter Fourteen

Late that night after curfew, Draco was sitting on the edge of his bed staring into a handheld mirror.

"What are you lookin' at, Malfoy?" asked Goyle.

"Nobody," said Draco, who started and hastily put the mirror under his pillow.

Gregory raised an incredulous eyebrow and Draco started again.

"Who taught you to do that?" Draco asked.

"Luna," said Gregory with a simple shrug as he reached for his pajamas.

"_Her_," sneered Draco, "I've been trying to teach you how to raise your eyebrow for years! What's so great about her anyways?"

"Well," said Gregory tapping a thoughtful finger against his lower lip, "it could be that she doesn't treat people as if they're absolutely un-brilliant because they happen to need to lose a few stone."

"Is that all?" scoffed Draco. "Heck, I don't care if you're a lard bucket, Goyle."

"That's Lord Goyle to you," snapped Gregory. "You _know_ I inherited when my father died in a raid last year."

"Well excuse me, _Lord_ Goyle," said Draco with a roll of his eyes. "I don't suppose you know where Crabbe is at this late hour?"  
"He's mourning his fate in the astronomy tower after Zabini stole his girl," huffed Gregory.

"Boo hoo," sneered Draco. "Who would cry over that loony bin anyway?"

"Hello boys!" Zabini sang out from the doorway. He strode into the room and sat down hard on his bed before tugging off his expensive, dragon-hide boots, oblivious to the disgusted look Draco was giving him as well as the more quietly hateful one Gregory was sending his way. Draco suddenly grabbed his own pillow and tossed it at Zabini's head. Zabini merely swatted it away and continued to tug at his laces.

"I thought you hated Lovegood," said Draco.

"I do," said Blaise, tossing his boots at the end of his bed.

"Then why did you ask her to be your girl?" demanded Gregory.

"I decided I wanted to see if the little Lovegood loves good, you know what I'm saying? And I thought it might be fun to have a go at breaking her heart in the process," said Zabini.

"You're despicable," said Gregory.

"Wow, Goyle," Blaise said, "I didn't know you knew any big words."

Gregory scowled and stomped into the bathroom.

"It gets him every time," smirked Blaise.

"You disgust me," said Draco.

"He'll get over it," said Blaise.

"That's not what I meant. I'm talking about Lovegood."

"What about her?"

"She's part of _their_ crowd! The low-class riff-raff! Those," Draco shuddered, "Gryffindors."

"So?" said Blaise with a shrug. "At least I'm not in love with one of them."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've seen you look at Smith."

"So? Lots of people look at her."

"Don't be an ass," said Blaise. "You're so in love with her, it's ridiculous."

"I am not!" shouted Draco, jumping up from his bed.

"Prove it!"

Instead of doing so, Draco screwed up his face, balled up his fist and charged at Zabini. He landed a punch on Blaise's jaw just as Crabbe walked in the door.

"Bloody hell," said Blaise, reeling back and holding his jaw. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being a selfish blood-traitor," spat Draco.

Vincent grunted and Blaise looked at him.

"What?" Blaise challenged. "You want to have a go, too?"

Vincent almost looked as if he would take him up on his offer, but he paused when he saw Gregory raising a fist behind Blaise. Gregory cracked Blaise in the back of the head and Blaise saw stars. He stumbled forward, tripped over Draco's pillow, pitched onto the floor and remained there, unconscious.

"Uh," said Vincent after a long pause, "should we take him to the hospital wing?"

"Nah," said Gregory as he cradled his aching fist. "Let's leave him outside the common room for Snape to find."

Draco shrugged. "Sounds good to me," he said and he flicked his wand at Blaise to levitate him.

Meanwhile in the Ravenclaw dorms, Luna and Anne were having a heart to heart chat.

"So, you and Blaise, huh?" said Anne, picking at a corner of her pillow. "I thought that Vincent Crabbe fellow was in love with you."

"He is," said Luna as she was brushing out her hair, "or at least he thinks he is. Who's to say whether it's true love or not? Only the servants of Obla Pish, I suppose."

"Wait a second; you're not testing him to see whether or not he's truly in love with you, are you?"

"Of course I am," said Luna.

"Uh, you do know that those kinds of tests only end in heartache and misery, right?" said Anne.

"Don't be silly," said Luna. "It always works out in the books."

Anne smacked herself on the head and rolled her eyes.

"There seems to be a lot of gratuitous eye rolling going on around here," said Mandy Brocklehurst sourly as she observed the pair. They in turn completely ignored her and went to bed.

Three weeks later it was time for the students of Hogwarts to return home for the holidays. Anne picked at her breakfast that morning as she listened to the other children chattering excitedly.

"What's the matter?" asked Draco as he slid into the seat beside her.

Anne sighed and pushed her breakfast away from her. "I don't know if Daddy wants me home for the holidays."

"How do you know?" asked Draco as he began to pile food on his plate.

"He never said anything."

"Did you say anything?"

"Well, no," said Anne slowly.

"That's the way it is with fathers," said Draco with a shrug. "They never say anything unless you say something first."

Anne pouted. "Yes, they do," she grumbled under her breath and she viciously speared a sausage with her fork.

That afternoon Anne watched the others leave Hogwarts from the steps at the front of the castle. She pulled her cloak tightly around her as she watched the gaily chattering groups cavort on their way to the train. When they were gone, she slowly and glumly turned back into the castle. She went to her room and began to do her homework. It was nearing dinner time when a figure paused in her bedroom doorway. Anne glanced at the door before jumping up gleefully.

"Daddy!" she cried and she flew into his arms and hugged him.

"Why weren't you on the train?" he asked.

"You didn't tell me to," said Anne. "I thought I wasn't supposed to come home."

"Don't be silly," said Lord Voldemort.

"But—but the whole reason I came here was so I wouldn't be underfoot," said Anne uncertainly as she watched her father's face darken, "isn't that right, Daddy?"

"It's bloody Christmas," he growled softly. "Pack your things."

"Ok," said Anne with a large grin stretched across her face.

The pair left and apparated as soon as they left Hogwart's grounds.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Potter-verse.

Chapter Fifteen

Anne and her father appeared on the grounds of a luscious estate.

"Come along," commanded Lord Voldemort. "The Malfoy's have invited us to spend the holidays with them."

"The Malfoys?" asked Anne pausing in her tracks with a curious look upon her face.

"Yes, of course," said Voldemort. "Now quit dawdling. I won't have you making a bad impression on our future in-laws."

"But I don't wanna stay with the Malfoy's for Christmas."

"Excuse me?" Lord Voldemort said imperiously. "You have no choice in the matter."

"But Daddy—" protested Anne with a pout.

"No buts," said Voldemort. "We are staying at the Malfoy's and that's final."

Lord Voldemort escorted his only daughter to the grand entrance of the Malfoy household and knocked on the door, which was immediately opened by a house elf. The house elf squeaked and disappeared with a snap of the fingers.

"The world really has gone downhill when even the Malfoy's cannot get good help these days," Voldemort said with a long-suffering sigh as he stepped through the doorway, daughter in tow.

"Milord," greeted Malfoy Sr. from the doorway to his personal study. He glided to his guests' side post-haste, Narcissa in his wake. "I was only just informed of your arrival."

"I gathered that," said Voldemort dryly.

"Only the best rooms have been prepared for you and your daughter," said Malfoy.

"Of course."

"I will show them to you myself—"

"Yes, yes, yes," said Voldemort. "All in good time. What I'd really enjoy at the moment is a good glass of sherry."

"Of course, milord," said Malfoy.

"Perhaps Anne would like to be shown to her room?" suggested Narcissa, speaking for the first time.

"Yes, be a dear, won't you, Narcissa?" said Voldemort as he guided Malfoy Sr. by the elbow to the closest room with sherry.

"Yes, milord," said Narcissa.

The door to Malfoy's study clicked shut and Anne was left alone with Narcissa, who scrutinized her future daughter-in-law with small, gray eyes and pursed lips. Her decision, if she had come to any, was never indicated as she kept her face decidedly neutral before intoning, "Come along, milady," and turning to go up the grand staircase.

"You don't need to call me that," protested Anne as she followed on Narcissa's heels, her trunks following.

"No, I suppose not," said Narcissa in clipped tones. "I suppose I should call you 'daughter'."

"Oh no," said Anne, shaking her head desperately. "I'd much rather be called Anne. It's my name, you know."

"Yes, I know," said Narcissa.

The two were silent before stopping at a pair of double doors.

"Your rooms," said Narcissa with an elegant bow before she turned and left.

Anne opened the doors and stepped through. Immediately, before she noticed the incredible size of the room, before she noticed the rich luxury, she noticed that Draco Malfoy was sitting on her bed.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Waiting for you," he said off-handedly as he stood and brushed invisible lint off his robes. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to spend the holidays with us?"

"I didn't know," Anne said.

"I see," said Draco, examining a cuff. "Well," he said suddenly, "I'll see you at dinner." He brushed past Anne with the grace of a samurai warrior and exited.

Anne turned on her trunks and, flicking her wand, they fell to the ground. No sooner had she done this than a house elf appeared.

"Oh, Trouble is being taking care of this, milady," she said, bowing furiously. "Trouble's is to be taking care of youse and youses things. I is bestest elf; I is being Lady Malfoy's own elf to be taking care of most important guest."

"Er, well, all right," said Anne.

While Trouble was readying Anne for dinner that evening, a most important discussion was taking place in Malfoy's study where Severus Snape, also having been invited to join the Malfoy's for Christmas, had joined Lucius Malfoy and Lord Voldemort for a friendly glass of holiday sherry.

"Severus," said Voldemort, "I'm determined to marry you off and only to the best. If you won't marry Miss Sprightly, well, I'll simply take you as my son-in-law."

"Blerg," gagged Severus.

"This is your own fault, you know," said Voldemort. "If you had gotten married sooner, I wouldn't be forced to do this. In fact, I was telling Anne just the other day that if you had had a son, I would have arranged a marriage contract between the two. Instead, Anne is betrothed to Malfoy."

"You mean, Draco Malfoy?" asked Severus with a strange look on his face.

"Yes, of course."

"But—well, Draco _is_ my son."

"No, he isn't," said Voldemort. "Are you having delusions of grandeur again?"

"Milord, I would never lie to you. Draco Malfoy is my son."

"Really? I always thought Harry Potter was your son. You both have black hair, pale skin and bad tempers."

"Blerg," gagged Severus who had gone an inexplicable shade of white.

"Draco looks nothing like you," continued Voldemort as if nothing were amiss.

"Of course he doesn't," said Lucius. "That's because there are several spells and charms that have been placed on him to make him appear as if he were my son instead of Snape's."

"Whaaaaaaat?" said Voldemort dropping his jaw and widening his eyes so far they nearly popped out of his head.

"Lucius is impotent," said Severus.

Lucius sneered at Severus before turning to his Lord and saying, "Yes, milord, I am impotent. Severus has always been a friend of the family, so we—made arrangements."

"So," said the Dark Lord gleefully, "my daughter is betrothed to the son of Severus Snape after all. How delightful."

Lucius scowled into his glass of sherry and only looked up briefly when his wife quietly slipped into the room. She crossed the room gracefully and not a shadow of a whisper could be heard from the folds of her long flowing dress. Three pairs of male eyes watched her eagerly as she took her place beside her husband, quietly and meekly. There was a long silence as the three men took in her beauty and most women would have become uncomfortable, but Narcissa was a woman of many talents and one of those talents was to ignore things which bothered her. It came in handy quite often.

"Enjoying your drink, milord?" Narcissa asked Voldemort, effectively ending the silence.

The men were broken out of their trance and Voldemort coughed lightly before answering, "Of course, Mrs. Malfoy. We were having quite a discussion before you arrived."

"Ah. You were discussing Draco," she said.

"How did you know?" asked Voldemort narrowing his eyes at her.

"Well, I could only assume you were speaking of the changes he will be going through tonight. He comes of age at 2:07 a.m., which is when the charms and spells will wear off. Was I correct in my assumption?" she asked with large innocent eyes.

"Of course, Narcissa," said Lucius fondly, fondling his wife's pale, delicate hand before bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "You always are."

"I'll be giving his dreamless sleep tonight," interrupted Severus, scowling at the couple canoodling on the loveseat. "He'll sleep through the changes and won't feel the pain, but he'll have a headache in the morning; nothing a headache relief potion wouldn't cure."

"And what kind of changes will he be going through?" asked Voldemort, sitting at the edge of his seat, sherry in hand forgotten and curiosity alight in his eyes.

"Well, I've run some tests," began Severus, "without him realizing, of course, and by my calculations, he will grow eight inches, his shoulders will widen, his fingers will elongate, his hair will become black though the rest of his coloring will remain the same, his jaw and chin will become more square, but his forehead, eyes and shape of the nose and mouth will remain the same."

"Incredible," said Voldemort. "Draco and Anne are sure to make a lovely couple. Anne always did favor darker men, anyway."

"Is that so?" asked Lucius, looking at Voldemort askance.

"Yes, of course," said Voldemort. He tapped his forehead with a finger. "Legilimency, you know."

* * *

A/N: Yay! The semester's over and I have a long break! Hopefully, I'll be able to get a few more chapters up before I get swamped with school again. Happy Holidays everyone!


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